The Lawman’s Nanny Op Page 2

  Caleb had spent many nights of his high school years visiting Portia and her mother. In fact, he and Portia had been inseparable all through high school.

  On warm summer nights he’d sat on the porch swing with Portia and they’d talked about their future together, made plans for a lifetime of happiness. They’d been best friends, and on the night of their senior prom they had become lovers.

  He thought of the dream of her he’d had the night before. It had been hot and wild and when he’d finally awakened he had imagined he could smell the scent of her still lingering in the sheets, on his skin.

  Crazy, he thought. Crazy that after all these years she should invade his dreams. And just as crazy that the thought of her could still bring the taste of bitterness to the back of his throat.

  Her house was a small ranch, painted the color of cinnamon and with gingerbread trim in beige that gave it a fairy-tale look. Colorful flowers lined the sidewalk leading up to the front door and baskets hanging from the porch ceiling spilled blossoms of red and purple.

  He turned in to her driveway and followed it to the detached garage where he knew her day-care facility was housed.

  As he pulled up he noticed several things. Melody Markfield, Portia’s assistant, was in a fenced play area next to the building with several toddlers, and Portia stood at the front door, her face unusually pale in the early-morning sunshine.

  He parked the car and as he opened his door to get out, she approached him. He couldn’t help but notice the way the sun sparked on her copper-colored hair and that her legs beneath her denim shorts were just as shapely as they’d been when she’d been a cheerleader in high school.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Somebody broke in.” Her voice trembled slightly and her hazel eyes appeared larger than usual. Her chin tilted upward. “And if you tell me this is a civil matter I might just punch you in the stomach.”

  “Let’s take a look inside,” Caleb said. As he walked toward the door of the building he was conscious of her just behind him. The floral scent of her perfume eddied in the air and reminded him of his dream of her.

  But all thoughts of dreams fled from his head the moment he stepped into the day care. Destruction and vandalism were everywhere.

  The mattresses on two of the cribs had been slashed and the stuffing pulled out. Books had been thrown from shelves and toys had been smashed and littered the floor in colorful plastic shards.

  “Not civil, definitely criminal,” Caleb murmured as he walked around the room and tried to take it all in.

  He checked all the windows looking for a point of entry and finally found it in the small bathroom. The window had been broken inward and pieces of glass glittered on the floor in the sunlight.

  He left the bathroom and returned to the main room. A laptop computer sat on the adult-size desk in the corner, along with a stereo system, letting him know that robbery hadn’t been the intent.

  It was a malicious crime scene. Whoever had broken in had been hell-bent on causing damage and nothing else. Who would have done this and why?

  He turned to look at Portia, who leaned against one wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. Her eyes held the hollow look of someone who had taken a hard hit to the head and wasn’t quite sure where she was or how she had gotten there.

  “When was the last time you were out here?” he asked.

  She raised a hand to her temple, as if she had a headache. “Last night. I came in around six to make sure everything was ready for this morning and then I went back into the house.” Her voice still held a faint tremor.

  “And you didn’t hear anything out here?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Do you have any idea who might be responsible for this? Have you had a fight with somebody? Maybe one of the parents of one of the kids?”

  She shook her head again, this time more forcefully. “No, nothing like that. Layla asked me the same thing Saturday morning when I found those flyers, but I can’t imagine who might do something like this.”

  Caleb pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll get some of the boys over here to fingerprint the area around the broken window in the bathroom. Maybe they can lift some prints that will let us know who’s responsible.”

  “I hope so,” she said. He turned his back to make the call and then when he had finished turned back around to face her. She looked small, and tears brimmed in her eyes.

  He wanted to reach out to her, to take her in his arms and soothe the tears away, but he knew better. He knew he was the last man she’d want to hold her for any reason.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle once again, as if trying to warm an insidious chill. “I know it sounds crazy, but I have this awful feeling that this is just the beginning.”

  “The beginning of what?” he asked.

  "Something terrible," she replied, her voice a mere whisper.

  Chapter 2

  It was just after nine when the deputies Caleb had called in finished up what little they had been able to do. There had been no fingerprints around the window, although they’d found a black thread stuck on one of the shards of glass, a thread they assumed was from whatever the intruder had been wearing when he’d broken in.

  Portia knew there was no way they’d be able to figure out who had smashed the window and crawled inside by a single thread of cotton.

  As Caleb walked with the other men out of the day care, she looked around the room and wanted to weep. She’d worked so hard to make this a place of fun and love for the little ones who were in her care, and now it was all nothing but a big mess.

  Melody had all the kids outside in the play area, but she needed to get them inside before the sun grew too hot and at the moment this was no place to bring children.

  Caleb came back inside. “You have a broom?” he asked.

  She looked at him in surprise. “Cleaning up a crime scene isn’t your job.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve got a yard full of kids out there who are going to need to get inside pretty soon. Two sets of hands will make the cleanup go more quickly.”

  “They aren’t coming back in here,” Portia exclaimed. “I’ll make arrangements for Melody to have them at her house until we figure out what’s going on.”

  “You still need this mess cleaned up, now where’s the broom?”

  As he began to sweep the floor Portia went outside to speak to Melody. All the children had arrived for the day and she gave Melody the keys to the minibus they used for field trips to transport the children to Melody’s house.

  Melody assured her the children would be fine at her place for however long it was necessary and Portia knew she could trust her assistant with all the details.

  By the time she returned to the garage, Caleb had finished sweeping up the floor. “You sure you can’t think of anyone who’s mad at you?” Caleb asked as he stopped pushing the broom and leaned on the handle.

  She frowned and bent down to pick up the picture books that had been thrown off the toddler-size bookshelf. “I spent all day yesterday trying to figure out who might have hung those flyers, who might have such a big problem with me that they’d want to hurt me like that.”

  She straightened and looked at Caleb. She’d spent most of her time since high school trying not to look at him, trying not to think about him, and most of the time she’d succeeded.

  She’d finished college with a degree in early childhood development and had devoted herself to her business, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t had time to date.

  “Joe Castle,” she said.

  Caleb frowned. “What about him?”

  “He’s the only one I can think of who might have an issue with me.”

  “Why? What did you do to him?”

  Portia felt the heat of a blush filling her cheeks. “It’s not what I did to him, it’s what I didn’t do with him.” She broke eye contact with Caleb to place the books on the shelf. “Joe and I have been seeing ea
ch other for the last month. You know, dinners out or an occasional movie, nothing serious. Last week at the end of one of our dates he tried to take things to the next level, but I told him I wasn’t interested. I told him I thought it best if we didn’t see each other anymore.”

  “How did he take it?”

  She met his gaze once again. “He was irritated, told me if I didn’t intend to get in a serious relationship then I shouldn’t have wasted his time.”

  Caleb frowned, his expression inscrutable. “I’ve known Joe for a long time. I know he’s got a hot temper, but this definitely doesn’t feel like something he’d do.”

  “I know, that’s why I hadn’t mentioned him until now, but he’s the only person I can think of who I’ve had any kind of issue with.”

  “I’ll have a talk with him, see if he knows anything about this.” Caleb swept the last of the plastic trash into a pile and then grabbed the dustpan.

  They worked for another few minutes, putting some of the things back where they belonged and not speaking. Tension gripped her and she told herself it was because of Caleb, because this was the first time in years that they’d spent any time together.

  The old saying was that you never forgot your first love and Portia knew it was true. She’d never completely been able to distance herself from the love they’d shared in high school.

  Despite the fact that he’d broken her heart years ago, she still remembered how it had felt to be held in his arms, how his mouth had plied hers with a heat she’d never known before or since.

  “That’s good,” she finally said. “I’ll call a carpenter and see about getting the bathroom window replaced and things will almost be back to normal.”

  “Except that you’re afraid.” Caleb stepped closer to her, so close she could see the golden flecks in his dark brown eyes, so close she could smell the dizzying, familiar scent of him.

  His words gave the tense feeling inside her a name. Fear. She’d thought it was because she was close to Caleb, but since the moment she’d walked in here and seen the senseless destruction she’d been gripped by a simmering fear.

  “This feels like such hatred,” she said. “It’s creepy to think that somebody could possess this much hatred directed toward me.”

  He reached out and touched her chin, a familiar gesture that might have ushered in a million memories if she allowed it. “Maybe you’re taking this all too personally,” he said softly.

  A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “It’s hard not to take this personally.”

  He dropped his hand back to his side. “It could be kids, some teenagers with too much time on their hands looking for a little excitement. If that’s the case somebody will talk to somebody else and eventually I’ll hear about it.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said and for just a moment she wished he’d pull her into his arms and hold her, take away the chill that refused to go away.

  And for just a minute she thought she saw in his eyes the desire to take her into his arms. It was there only a moment, a soft yearning that quickly disappeared and made her wonder if she’d only imagined it.

  “I’ll have a talk with Joe and see where he was last night and if he had anything to do with this,” Caleb said, all business as he started to back toward the door. “And if you think of somebody else who might want to cause you trouble, call me.”

  “I will, and thank you for all your help in cleaning up,” she said.

  He nodded once and then walked out. As she watched him go she felt a small stab in her heart, a faint echo of the way she’d felt years ago when she’d watched him walk away that final time.

  Crazy.

  They’d had their chance at making it work and he’d blown it. He’d obviously moved on. She knew he’d been engaged a year ago to Laura Kincaid, a statuesque blonde who was two years younger than Portia and Caleb. The engagement had fallen apart and Portia had just assumed it had been Caleb who had called it off, who had probably cheated on her. After all, that was what he’d done to Portia—cheated on her and broken her heart and there was nothing to indicate to her that over the years he’d changed his ways.

  Laura had left town soon after the broken engagement and Portia had heard through the grapevine that Caleb was once again playing the field.

  Portia wasn’t sure now if her rapid heartbeat was because she was still just a little bit afraid or if it was because Caleb Grayson still had the capacity to touch her in a way no other man ever had.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze. For the first time in years the day care was silent on a weekday. No childish laughter, no sloppy kisses, just a silence that pressed in on her as she finished trying to clear up the last of the mess. The carpenter arrived late in the afternoon to put in a new window.

  Maybe it would be best to keep the kids at Melody’s for the next couple of days until they could figure out who was behind all this. She could take the time and give the walls a new coat of paint, she thought as she closed and locked the door.

  She’d been wanting to put a fresh coat of paint on the walls for a while now, but had never found the time. There was no way she could have the children come back until she was certain there was no danger to them.

  She hoped Caleb solved this issue quickly so she could get the day care back up and running, but in the meantime she’d use the time with the children absent to do some grunt work.

  It was just after five when she went inside her house. She would sleep with one eye and her bedroom window open tonight to make sure she’d hear anyone who tried to break into the garage again. On second thought, she’d keep her windows closed and locked. Anything that was destroyed in the day care could be replaced, but she couldn’t be.

  The kitchen smelled faintly of fresh oranges and the chicken salad she’d made early that morning for the children’s lunch. She tossed her keys on the table and then walked from the kitchen through the living room and into her bedroom.

  What she wanted more than anything was a quick shower, her favorite robe and maybe a quart of chocolate ice cream for dinner. She positively didn’t want to think about break-ins or vicious flyers—or Caleb Grayson.

  Minutes later as she stood beneath the warm spray of water she found thoughts of Caleb creeping into her mind. She wondered who he was dating at the moment.

  He’d promised to love her forever, had promised she was the only one he wanted in his life, and then she’d gone out of town for her grandfather’s funeral and the rumors had begun, rumors of his betrayal.

  She frowned and shut off the faucets, then reached for the fluffy towel that awaited her. Ancient pain, she thought. She wasn’t that naive young woman anymore, and she’d learned her lesson well where Caleb was concerned.

  Once she was dry she pulled on her short, green silk nightgown and a matching robe. It was not quite seven when she settled on the sofa in front of the television with a tray holding a plate of chicken salad and a tall glass of iced tea.

  She’d just finished eating and carried the tray back into the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She went to the front door and peered out, surprised to see Caleb standing on the porch.

  Maybe he had news, she thought as she cracked open the door. “Caleb,” she said in greeting.

  “Hi, Portia. Mind if I come in?”

  She unfastened the chain and opened the door to allow him entry. As he walked into her living room, he looked around with interest.

  She followed his gaze, wondering what he thought of her bright color scheme, the oversize throw pillows on the gleaming wooden floors and the bookshelf jammed full of books, knickknacks and pictures of kids who had passed through her care.

  “Nice,” he said as his gaze went first around the room, then slid down the length of her body, making her unsure what exactly he thought was nice. He sank down in the overstuffed chair next to the sofa.

  Self-consciously she belted her robe more tightly around her waist and sat on the edge of the sofa. “What’s up? Please tell me you’ve solv
ed the crime and the vandal is behind bars.”

  “Not even close,” he replied with obvious reluctance. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Joe this afternoon. He insists he had nothing to do with the flyers or what happened here last night. I also talked to several high school kids to see if they knew anything about it, but nobody seemed to have any information.”

  “You didn’t have to make a trip here for that. You could have called me,” she replied. She wasn’t at all sure she liked him being here in her personal space. She didn’t want to smell his cologne when he was gone, didn’t want a mental picture of him sprawled in her chair as if he belonged here.

  “You were upset when I left here earlier. I wanted to stop by to make sure you were okay.” His gaze was too warm as it lingered on her, on her throat, on her lips.

  “You know me, Caleb, I always bounce back from things.”

  One of his dark eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s just the thing, Portia, I don’t know you. We’ve been sharing this small town for a long time and we never talk.”

  She shrugged. “We say hello, we talk about the weather. There’s never been a reason for us to have a real conversation before now.”

  “We definitely need to have more than a passing conversation now. Joe told me that you were dating Eric Willowby before you dated him.”

  “Eric and I dated for a little while,” she agreed. “But that was months ago. Surely you can’t imagine that he’d have anything to do with this.” She rose from the sofa, unwilling to share anything else personal with him. “I appreciate you coming by to check on me, but as you can see, I’m fine.” She looked at the door, giving him the nonverbal message that she was finished with the conversation.

  Caleb rose slowly from the chair, as if reluctant to leave. She walked with him to the front door and he turned back to face her.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You still look upset,” he said.

  She was upset, but it had less to do with the break-in and more about how his presence affected her. “I’m fine,” she replied, surprised to hear a slight tremor in her voice.